


Just talk it out

by Whit Merule (whit_merule)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Sabriel Fluff Friday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-07-12 03:45:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7084372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whit_merule/pseuds/Whit%20Merule
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oh dear, Sam and Gabriel just HAD to pretend to be a couple to get into this couples therapy retreat thingie. Probably because there was a monster somewhere, idk, who cares honestly. Now they have to sit through group counselling sessions. Could there be anything that they need to talk about?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just talk it out

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Sabriel Fluff Friday's one-year anniversary, woo!  
> From a prompt by [consultingcas](http://consultingcas.tumblr.com/): "How about a good old-fashioned case of fake-relationship? Mostly because one of my favourite things is imagining canon Sam and Gabriel going to a couples' retreat/counseling and them ending up discussing their problems in the group."

“Okay, Sam,” said the group therapist sympathetically. “Can you tell us one habit of Gabriel’s that gets on your nerves that you think you might be able to talk out with him here?”

Sam hesitated, and looked around. He hadn’t really bargained on this, when he and Gabriel had agreed (much to Dean’s hilarity) to fake being a couple to get into this camp. There’s only so much invention you can manage in a day, after all. Especially when your patience is being worn down by being treated like a kid by all the camp employees and told what to do and where to go all the time.

And have _Gabriel_ by your side all the time. Being loud. And charming. And hilarious. And _untrustworthy_. And gorgeous. And... annoying.

_Even in bed which was not something he had bargained on and..._

“It’s alright, Sam,” she said, misinterpreting his hesitation. “This is a safe space.”

“Yeah,” said Sam. “Yeah, I know. Okay... there’s the way he always assumes he knows best. Like, he’s kind of judgemental, y’know?”

Gabriel snorted. “That’s because I’m always right. Gabriel is the archangel of divine judgement, after all. And at least I’m not _righteous_ about it. Not like _some_ people.”

Sam rolled his eyes.

“Oh, and that! See that?” said Gabriel, pointing and pouting, making big sad eyes at the counsellor. “He just _dismisses_ me, all the time. Stabs me in the heart, he does. With a wooden stake. Do you know the splinters that kind of thing leaves?”

“ _Also_ ,” said Sam pointedly, “he’s ridiculously over-dramatic.”

Gabriel winked. “Babe, you love it. Don’t deny it. It gets you all tingly in your giant-sized underwear.”

Sam shifted uncomfortably. “... It does not.”

“... Okay,” said the counsellor, looking a little anxious. Sam suspected it was her first week at this job. “Let’s start with... um. Gabriel being judgemental?”

“It’s true,” said Gabriel philosophically. “I once burned a city to ash because this real sleazy guy tried to hit on me. Heh. Good times.”

 _Shut the hell up_ , prayed Sam. Gabriel turned the puppy-dog eyes on him.

 

***

 

“How about you, Gabriel? Can you tell us about one time where you feel that Sam hasn’t really understood what you were trying to say to him?”

Gabriel was quiet for a moment. Then he turned his head, and winked at Sam. And even though he was wearing an appropriately earnest face, Sam could _see_ the mischievous sparkle in those brandy-gold depths.

Sam’s heart sank.

 _Don’t you dare, you little shit_ , he prayed.

“Well,” said Gabriel solemnly, “there was that one time I was trying to gently hint to him that his relationship with his brother was dangerously co-dependent and he’d be happier and healthier if he could put a bit of emotional distance between them.”

“ _Gently hint_ ,” said Sam, through gritted teeth. “You—”

“Alright, Sam,” said the counsellor hurriedly. “You remember the occasion he’s talking about? What did you hear when he said that to you?”

“Well,” said Sam, “I heard ‘I don’t actually care about you or your brother at all but I’ll hurt you as much as I like until you admit that I’m right about this’.”

“Oh!” said the counsellor. “Okay. So, Gabriel, you felt you were just hinting but from Sam’s point of view you were maybe pushing a little too hard and using tactics that he considered unfair and hurtful?”

“Please,” Gabriel scoffed, leaning back against a tree and crossing his legs at the ankle. And sliding one hand casually up his thigh. “I only killed his brother a couple of hundred times. And it was _hilarious_.”

“Can we go back to the ‘annoying habits’ question,” said Sam loudly. “How about Gabriel habit of not bothering to distinguish between _joking pretence_ and reality. And his habit of constructing these elaborate fantasies and treating you like characters in them until you have to go along with them just to get him to stop. I mean, this isn’t just to me, he does this all the time. And sometimes they really hurt people.”

“But always for a good cause!” said Gabriel, fluttering his stupidly gorgeous eyebrows at Sam.

“No,” growled Sam. “No. You don’t get to decide that. Not if you’re actually going to hang around with people on a daily basis. You have to treat them like _people_ , not like toys. You have to let them have the right to choose just as much as you do. And you have to let them forgive you in their own time, if they ever do.”

Gabriel narrowed his eyes for a moment and looked at Sam rather sharply.

“To be fair,” he said sweetly, just as the camp counsellor tried to cut in, “I _did_ let the devil stab me in the back for you.” And he winked. “Then came back to you five years later just when you couldn’t handle your _workload_ and swooped in like your _guardian angel_ and fixed everything for you. You should be bowing down and worshipping me, kid.”

Sam threw up his hands in frustration.

“Okay!” said the poor counsellor loudly. “Okay, I think we’ve got some... solid material to work with here? Um.”

 

***

 

Sam slammed the door of their cabin behind him.

“You just never stop, do you?” he hissed.

Gabriel spun on one heel in the middle of the floor, spread his hands, and smiled beatifically. “What? I’m bored!”

“You— _gnah_!” Sam balled up his fists, and glared. Stupid Gabriel and his stupidly perfect mouth and hands and scruff and _grin_ and—

“Go on, Sammy,” purred Gabriel. “Let it all out. Come at me, bro.”

“It’s _Sam_ ,” he growled, and shoved Gabriel up against the wall.

Gabriel’s eyes went wide, then bright and laughing. “Well, shit. What’s a poor archangel to do?”

Sam made a frustrated noise, and shut him up the only logical way.

 _About damn time_ , purred Gabriel in his head, and Sam was going to punch him for having been able to directly answer his prayers _all along_ just as soon as he was done kissing him. And... kissing him. And... oh yes, mouthing along to just that spot there, and, mmm, letting Gabriel’s clever fingers play around in his hair and slide up the back of his shirt, and...

 

***

 

“There,” said Gabriel, some time later, kicking his heels over his naked back and grinning down at where Sam was splayed exhausted in their bed. “See? That was easy! _Now_ I’m not bored.”


End file.
